No smoking, bad food okay

I'm noticing a theme here.

After a leisurely start to Sunday, I headed out to the convention site for a couple of classes that I wanted to take.  It was fountain day!  First I attended a fountain/mine class taught by the hilarious Griz Smith from Alaska.  He had me chuckling the entire hour.  The class members all helped make fountains for use in the grand finale of that evening's demonstration show (a lot of the stuff that goes up during the shows is made right there on site).

My second class was one I'd been eagerly awaiting the entire weekend.  Not only was one of my very favorite instructors teaching it (Steve Majdali), but what we would learn to make were amazingly beautiful hand held fountains (somewhere between a sparkler and a roman candle).  With brake drum turnings.  And a little bit of other easy to obtain scientific stuff.  They are SO gorgeous!  They have a delicate little spark that branches like tree limbs.  I can't wait to show all of you!  Just ask for a demo.

After I finished Steve's class, it was time for me to hit the road and start back home.  I began the process (one which I detest) of saying goodbye to folks.  There were a bunch of people that I had bonded with over the weekend, and trading business cards and e-mail addresses hardly seemed adequate.  I made the rounds, stopping last to say goodbye to my friend Ken Smith.  He and his wife Noelle are both some of the nicest, most interesting people you'll ever meet - I just love them.  I run across them at Burning Man events and pyro shows and I never get to spend enough time with them.  As I was leaving, I promised Ken I was going to stop by Mussel Shoals for a visit in the not too distant future.  I mean to keep that promise, too.

I hopped on the highway and headed toward Quartzsite where I could access the interstate.  I stopped in Quartzsite at one of the few restaurants, but one that had a legion of cars outside.  Oh yeah, I forgot.  It was Valentines and everyone would be gussied up for a intimate romantic evening.  When I looked over the menu, steak seemed to be the specialty of the house, but I avoided the prime rib and instead ordered a rib eye, medium rare, because that's pretty hard to goof up.

Without going into too much detail, I have to say that it was the worst meal I've had in a LONG time.  Memorably bad.  It reminded me how spoiled I am.  There were plenty of people raving about how good their meals were, but then maybe they had that special Valentines glow that made it extra tasty.

After quietly paying the tab and retreating to the car, I scurried off to Phoenix where I planned to spend the night.  I saw with relief that there was a Waffle House the exit before my motel.  That would go a long way toward making up for the unfortunate Quartzsite poisoning.